“I think we need to be sure,” I reply. “I’d prefer all the resources we have concentrate their attention on protecting the palace. Leave us weak and exposed, we could lay ourselves open to another form of attack.”
Hunter indicates he’s got something to say. “Amir al-Fahri hasn’t been caught because he’s clever. He’s performed acts of atrocity because he plans well. If Rami is right, and the information is meant to divert our Army, or at least part of it, away from the palace, then where we are right now is where we should stay.”
Ghalib is looking thoughtful. “I agree with Hunter. There’s a chance we might already be under attack. From within.”
Zaram leans forwards. “What do you mean?”
Sparing him a quick glance, he looks at Rais. “Remember what happened to the Emira? How she was taken when the palace guards were replaced by Abdul Muhsi’s men?”
“I could never forget.” As Rais’s face darkens, I recall the story. Of course, Zoe wasn’t Kadar’s wife at that point, and her kidnap was arranged by her ex-partner. How it was orchestrated is something we would do well to bear in mind. “The palace security has been tightened up. Each guard carries a photo pass now,” Rais continues. “Even so, I suggest we do a one-off sweep to check them carefully, then check them in and out when they come on or go off shift.”
“The household staff too, as well as the guards.” Hunter’s nodding in agreement. “We should trust no one at this point.”
Chapter 25
Aiza
I didn’t sleep well, hovering between remembering the arousing sensation of having three men around me alternating with something akin to disgust that I allowed myself to enjoy it. The idea in itself doesn’t concern me—that I was the one in the middle does. If I had submissive tendencies I would have been out of this world with delight having all their attention on me. Unfortunately, I haven’t. That I got any enjoyment from a situation where I had absolutely no control is what unnerves me. I acted out of character, allowing two men to dominate me. It can’t happen again.
Embarrassed to face them, I delay as long as I can before getting out of bed. After showering and dressing, mentally gearing myself up, I gingerly step into the living room only to find after all that fretting I’m alone in the suite except for a guard standing by the door. My first reaction is one of relief, followed quickly by curiosity as to where Hunter, Rais and Rami could be.
“Good morning, Princess.” The guard smiles reassuringly. As recognition dawns I give him a broad smile.
“Good morning, Zaki. It’s good to see you’re still here.” I’m surprised to see him, having thought he’d been promoted years ago and would no longer be a lowly palace guard.
“Princess,” he acknowledges. “Sheikh Rais asked for volunteers of faces you’d recognise so you could be assured at all times of your safety. I head up the palace guard now at the Palace of Amahad. Nonetheless, I answered his call along with Safwan and Dharr. You’ll always have someone you recognise and remember on each shift. Each of us will have three additional guards assigned to protect you, The rest of my team are standing outside the suite now. You have no need to worry, all of us have sworn to protect you.”
Belatedly I notice the extra flashes of rank on his shoulder. Seeing him, though now greyer and older, takes me back to when I was a child. Zaki, Safwan and Dharr had been merely corporals in the palace guard then. Whenever I left the palace with my nanny they’d tag along. Young soldiers at that time, and while they weren’t the only guards I went out with, those three were the ones who made it most fun, taking some time to play with a little girl. He’s changed, he’s filled out, his muscular build stretching at his tunic, and from the medals he wears, he’s not been idle over the intervening years. I get a warm feeling inside. None of the royal family can forget what happened to Zoe and how she was taken from the desert palace because all the guards and household staff had been replaced by Abdul-Muhsi’s men. That Rais had thought to make sure I recognised the guards is reassuring.
When Zaki opens the door to introduce me to his team, a guard I don’t know turns away and speaks quietly into his radio. When he turns back he lifts his chin towards me. “I’ve ordered you a late breakfast, Your Highness.”
Thanking him, I’m introduced to the others, then I return to the suite, feeling more relaxed than I have done for a long time. I’m a strong woman, yet having been so recently kidnapped, the worry of being abducted again constantly plays on my mind, however much I try to put it behind me. It’s encouraging to see my protection is being taken so seriously.
I’m just finishing off a plate of delicious pastries, and on my second cup of coffee when Rami enters. My eyes flit behind him, but he seems to be alone. After giving him a nod of greeting, I raise my coffee cup to my lips, wondering if he intends to refer to yesterday evening. If he does, out of the three, I’m glad it’s him I need to tackle first. Swallowing a mouthful of the thick, bitter-sweet liquid, I try to summon my inner Domme.
“Princess…”
I turn to face him and raise an eyebrow, seeing nothing other than a guileless smile on his face. “Prince?” When he doesn’t elaborate, I take the initiative. “Where are Hunter and Rais?”
“Hunter’s speaking to the intelligence people. Rais is talking with General Zaram. I think they’ll be tied up most of the day.”
Placing my cup back on the saucer, my eyes narrow. “Has anything happened, Rami? Anything I should know about?”
He comes closer, sweeping his robes around his as he sits on the couch opposite. “We’re just taking precautions. Tightening up security around the palace.”
“It seems an awful lot of people are tied up with trying to keep me safe.”
He gives a quick shake of his head. “It’s not just about you, Aiza. Though you know your safety is paramount. It’s to prevent the insult to Kadar and your country. And to try and capture Amir al-Fahri once and for all.” He breaks off and nicks one of the pastries I hadn’t eaten. “There are some CIA officers flying in today. Everyone wants a chance to take him down. We just have to formulate a plan that will work.”
“Nothing’s worked yet. Amir al-Fahri has always slipped through everyone’s hands.” I stand and take my coffee cup and plate over to the sideboard where breakfast had been set out. “I don’t understand what’s so important about me that gets an international terrorist so hot under the collar. I understand he wants to get revenge on Kadar. Surely there are other ways?”
“I wish I could say that it’s you, however it’s not. You’re incidental, a tool al-Fahri can use. Yes, it helps that he can combine payback for his son’s death while taking us on.” He pauses and brushes some stray crumbs off his beard. “In the end it all comes down to one thing. Oil. If al-Fahri could, he’d destroy all oil exports to the West. He thinks that would bring them to their knees. In that respect, you’re simply a tool, a way to get Kadar to cease production.” Rami gets to his feet. “Come. Enough of this. Take a walk with me in the palace gardens. You should get some fresh air rather than staying cooped up.”
Here I’m safer… That’s stupid. Who would be able to get me here in the palace? Amahad couldn’t have more people with one single focus, keeping me out of harm’s way. Suddenly the idea of seeing something other than these four walls sounds attractive. When I nod and move to the door, Rami puts his hand in the small of my back.
Outside in the corridor, Zaki and the other guards leave their post and fall in behind us. One, who seems to be the communicator, lets someone know what we’re doing. Although it’s all designed to save me from danger, inside part of me rebels, longing for the independence and freedom I had in London. Will I ever be able to go back? Or is this my new normal now?
We walk through the palace, along beautiful hallways and down the magnificent staircase, then through the back to the atrium. Looking through the glass doors I see guards lining the walls, each vigilant and alert. Then we’re out into the heat of the day, and I feel the burn of the sun alm
ost immediately, and am, for once, grateful for the headscarf I’m wearing.
Rami seems totally unaffected by the rays blazing down, however notices my discomfort immediately. Leading me around the palace, we enter into what I remember used to be the harem gardens. I can’t help glancing at the newly filled gap in the wall where the rogue sheikh Abdul-Muhsi had blown a hole in the wall, enabling Zoe to be kidnapped. Though the stonemasons have tried hard, they haven’t been entirely successful in making the new bricks match the old, leaving it standing like a memorial to what happened that day. Though hot, I shiver at the reminder of the lengths some people will go to. Today I see fully-armed guards lining the walls, preventing anyone’s approach.
“Here. It will be cooler in there.” Rami points me to the interior of the old harem.
The harem at the Palace of Amahad had been renovated at the suggestion of Cara, it holding a special place in her and Nijad’s hearts. In fact, that was why Zoe had come to Amahad in the first place, as she’d been an architect and landscape gardener. It’s now used, and successfully, as a venue for hen parties. I’d cracked up when I first found that out, wondering how they’d ever persuaded my austere brother to embark on such a venture.
The harem at the Desert Palace isn’t in such need of repair, and instead remains, though unfurnished, just as it’s been throughout the centuries. Apart from one major exception. It’s now been cut in half. One half, only able to be entered from the royal suite, has been converted into a dungeon at Nijad’s request.
The part Rami’s leading me into is the part left unaltered. Glad to be out of the direct sunlight, I walk to the edge of what used to be a bathing pool and sit on the stonework surrounding it. A beautiful mosaic is still there at the bottom, though it no longer holds water. I stare down at the scene, amused to see Cupid armed with his arrows.
Rami’s eyes follow my gaze, and he grins. “I wonder how many arrows hit their targets.”
“I suppose it depends who was the ruling sultan at the time.” Until my great-grandfather’s day, Amahad was two countries, the southern desert having its own ruler, until economics forced it to unite with the more prosperous north. “If he was kind and handsome, quite a few.” My eyes look around the harem. “I doubt many were like that.” Sensing Rami is looking at me, I turn. “What?”
“You’re a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”
“No.” I shudder. “I can’t think of anything worse than being forced to submit to a man you haven’t chosen.”
He huffs a laugh. “You wouldn’t submit to any man at all. Any sultan would have hell on his hands with you.”
I mock punch his arm. “Thanks a lot.”
“You’re welcome.” The mirth slips from his face, and now his dark eyes become intense and lustful. He places a hand under my chin and gently raises my face. His intention is clear as he leans in towards me.
“Rami.” I place my fingers over his mouth.
His free hand pulls mine away. “Hush. Just give me this. You’re a beautiful woman, in beautiful surroundings.”
I shouldn’t encourage him, but he’s so darn handsome himself it’s hard not to want to see if he can deliver. Shooting a glance outside to check the guards focus is on what’s going on outside, not inside the harem, I don’t move towards him. He doesn’t need me to, completing the journey himself. Soon our lips are touching.
Of their own volition, my hands go to rest on his shoulders. He doesn’t force the kiss, lets me set the pace, and it’s me who’s anxious to taste him. I press my tongue against the seam of his lips and slip inside as he opens. He’s fresh, clean. His taste is from breakfast, a slight lingering bittersweet flavour. He’s sampling me too, my open eyes see his nostrils flaring.
Our mouths move against each other, our lips pressing together. Tongues sliding as though in a slow dance. It’s nice, but… My eyes flick to the wall separating what remains of the original harem and the dungeon, and my thoughts go to what I could do with him were we the other side of the brickwork.
He’d let me do whatever I wished. He’d place himself under my control, trusting me to make him feel good, which means I’d get satisfaction too. He’s a prince, with a heavy load to carry representing his country, and just for a while I could make him forget his responsibilities. The thought of having him at my mercy has my arousal growing.
As I’m lost in my thoughts, he starts to pull away, breaking the contact, replacing it with another as he rests his forehead against mine. “Marry me.”
I breathe in deeply. Before I can reply, it’s now Rami’s turn to place his fingertips to my lips.
“Hunter and Rais both want you.”
My forehead creases. Hunter, yes. I’d have to be blind not to have noticed he’d been attracted to me that night in London, and if I’d have succumbed, would have wanted to play with me at Club Tiacapan. If I’m honest about last night, it showed he’s the wrong man for me. He’s a Dom. We’d clash, that’s the problem, pure and simple. There’s no denying his good looking boyish charm would be attractive to any woman unless she was no longer breathing. His physique leaves nothing to complain about either. It’s his personality that puts me off. He wouldn’t be dominant only in the dungeon.
Now Rais? Though I can’t deny, in last night’s moment of weakness when I let them surround me he’d had a very obvious physical reaction to me. Nevertheless, the thought that the rough-looking, desert-living sheikh would dream of me as a pairing is laughable, even though there’s a part of me that wishes it could be different.
“I admit, I want you to commit to me, before they start making moves on you.”
Again, I sigh. “Rami, I’m sorry if I’ve misled you. With everything going on, I’m not sure I want to get married at all. Or not just yet. There’s too much I want to do with my life.”
His hand holds mine. “I don’t mind a long engagement. I’ll follow you anywhere, Aiza. I’d never stop you doing what you want to do.” He stops, and then surprises me. “Even if you wanted to experiment with Hunter and Rais. As long as it’s me you’re promised to.” He looks at me earnestly and repeats, “Whatever you want, Aiza. You can have it.”
That’s the problem. Perversely, while I don’t want a man who’ll always tell me what to do, I don’t want anyone simply hanging onto my coattails. I don’t want a doormat. I cast a sideways glance and realise I’m doing Rami a disservice. I’m thinking of him as weak when he’s anything but. As a diplomat and representative of his country, he’s a natural born leader. However, from what I saw last night in the dungeon, in the bedroom he needs someone to take charge.
So why am I even hesitating? Isn’t he my perfect match?
The problem being, the kiss we shared was pleasant enough, satisfying, and undeniably arousing, but it did nothing to make my blood really race.
“Our marriage was destined from the time of our births, Aiza. So why fight it?” He raises his hand to my face and gives a wry smile. “Or is that the problem? If we’d met as two strangers, would things be different? Do you feel pressured?”
I don’t answer, knowing that could be part of the problem and what’s holding me back. The thought of my father controlling my actions even while he’s cold in his grave.
Rami sighs, and his hand drops away. “Maybe we shouldn’t rush this. Once al-Fahri is caught we could start over. Date, get to know each other better. It’s hardly the best of circumstances right now.”
The situation is what it is. Which makes it difficult to think of doing normal things like dating again.
Will I ever be free of this cloud hanging over me?
Chapter 26
Hunter
“Where the fuck is she?” Pushing back the lock of hair that’s fallen over my forehead, I look around the empty suite in disgust. It would be easier to protect Aiza if she stayed where she was meant to be.
Rais enters the living room. “She’s walking in the gardens with Rami. Safwan, the head guard just told me.”
“She should be
here. Not wandering around. Especially not until we’ve done a complete check of all the personnel in the palace.”
“Add in a security sweep for bugs.” Rais sends me a sharp look.
“We checked before we brought the princess here.”
“Well fucking check it again.” Storming over to me, Rais adds, “If someone has infiltrated the household, it would be easy enough to plant more.”
Chagrined, I have to agree. My face is tight as I tell him, “We’ll do daily sweeps.”
Rais disappears into the second bedroom. When he comes back out he’s disrobed and is now in jeans and a tee. He’d look like a man you’d be happy to go to the pub with—if you didn’t mind all the other customers leaving. He tops me by about five centimetres, and I’m not short by any degree. His hair hangs to his shoulders, and I won’t be requesting the name of his hairdresser anytime soon. He has a short beard which he attempts to keep trimmed, a straight nose in an aquiline face, a scar through one eyebrow, and piercing dark eyes which seem to see right down into your soul. His air is that of one much older than his thirty-four years, making the four years between us seem like a much larger gap.
Technically he’s got little power. The military are in charge of this operation, acting under Kadar, and Grade A have also been employed directly via the emir. Rais has grown into his unofficial title of the Desert Sheikh, ruling over the other tribal leaders. He’s a natural born leader, and a force to be reckoned with.
The other night, in the harem, for the first time since I did my Master training, I’d felt myself being topped.
Which is crazy. Rais isn’t a Dom in the way that I am.
“I’m still not happy Aiza’s not in the suite.” I go back to the original subject, a little peevishly.
Rais throws himself down on a couch. “I understand, Hunter. Though we can’t keep her cooped up all the time.” He frowns. “Could Rami be trying to get the jump on us?”
“I fucking hope not. The prince couldn’t handle her.” Aiza wouldn’t accept if he proposed again, would she? She might, if she’s still spooked after last night.
Hard Choices (Blood Brothers #6) Page 22
